


magic that swallows and consumes everything in its path

by jadedgalaxies (Emeraldxoxo)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, Magical Realism, kyoutani has no control, kyoutani's got it bad, someone's going to have to explain the hole, yahaba's accidentally sexy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-12
Updated: 2016-12-12
Packaged: 2018-09-08 02:35:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8827042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emeraldxoxo/pseuds/jadedgalaxies
Summary: Volleyball has never been harder when magic is constantly bursting from your fingertips and you're crushing hard on your setter. [Kyouhaba]





	

**Author's Note:**

> read some good magical realism fics, re-watched hq and got I N S P I R E D.

Sweat drips down his brow, disgusting and cold against his hot skin and he hopelessly tries to dry his face with his damp t-shirt. Yahaba looks at him, some kind of ~~sexy~~ stupid smirk curling across his mouth. He doesn’t have to say anything for Kyoutani to feel the mockery in his eyes. _What, warn out already?_

His fingertips tingle and he clenches his fists. His stomach knots, twisting and expanding all at once. Kyoutani wants to release this tension, this overwhelming build up in his fingers, and so he does it in the only way he’s learned how. He signals for Yahaba to toss to him again and Yahaba nods, getting ready for Kyoutani to throw the ball for him to set.

When Yahaba sets to him, the tingles spread like wildfire through his body, smothering him and filling his joints with the desire to explode. His body coils, tight, and he hits the ball so hard he thinks it might have dented the floor. Yahaba whistles and his skin prickles.

“Take a break there, Ken,” Yahaba says, deciding for him that he needs to rest. All of the relief that spiking the ball resulted in is gone in a pouf of smoke when Yahaba touches his shoulder for the briefest of seconds and Kyoutani feels like flying. He turns away, walking to find his water bottle and Kyoutani can breathe again.

He spins off to find his water and towel, the pulse of his magic like a violent surge in his nerves. When he’s around Yahaba, he can’t think straight and his magic is unmanageable and consuming. It swallows his common sense, devouring his control like a wildfire decimates a forest. He calms after taking a long swig of water, forcing the water to douse the magic burning his veins.

Kyoutani had convinced Yahaba to practice with him, hoping to relieve his magical tension and also spend some time with the guy he may or may not have had a giant crush on. Either way, in retrospect, Kyoutani decides he made a stupid choice and practicing with Yahaba only made his magic more uncontrollable. He wants to run away, maybe, wants to kiss Yahaba, probably, and grow a tree. He’s not sure what order it should be accomplished in but he does know that if Yahaba smiled at him, he might actually probably combust.

“You’re awfully quite tonight,” Yahaba says, softly, _right into Kyoutani’s ear_ and sends the boy reeling. He probably squeezed his water bottle in his panic because somehow, Yahaba’s face is wet. Kyoutani _thinks_ he’s blushing, either that or his face has spontaneously combusted. Yahaba gives him a look, _that look_ , and wipes his face in his collar rendering Kyoutani breathless and somewhat hard at the sight of Yahaba’s exposed stomach.

“Because you’re fucking boring,” Kyoutani says, though his red face and breathy voice betrayed him. Yahaba’s eyebrows pinch.

“You’re being weird,” Yahaba responds, not realizing how his proximity is feeding the magical demon within him, “is there a particular reason you’re looking at me like that?”

 _Yes_. “No.” Kyoutani fists his shirt, urging his bouncing magic to calm down. He was _just_ fine, having tamed the raging magical beast and then Yahaba and his stupid voice just had to come and ruin his fleeting self-control. “If I’m looking at you it’s because your face is stupid.”

Yahaba rolls back on his heels, likely not hurt but he isn’t looking to fight with Kyoutani. “Well… I’m going to get going. Try not to be so weird tomorrow at practice.” Kyoutani tries to think of something clever to say back but his mouth feels like its full of cotton balls.

Yahaba collects his things, casts a look at Kyoutani over his shoulder that sets his nerve-endings on fire and leaves. Kyoutani’s glad he left because the moment he did, the light above him shattered and a rose squeezed passed the floor boards.

 

* * *

 

 

Kyoutani was alone when his magic finally blossomed and the pipes in his building exploded. That incident was only a few months ago and he’s still learning how to get his magic under wraps. He recently discovered that his nature magic really only reared its ugly head when Yahaba was involved. Most of the time he funnels his magic into strength but whenever Yahaba was around, he lost all sense of his control.

He’s dreading practice. He’d heard through the grapevine that the janitor was on the hunt for the volleyball member that broke the light in the gym. Not that Kyoutani cares about the janitor, he cares about what his magic will do today around Yahaba.

He changes in a blur, doing everything in his power to avoid looking at Yahaba because, well, last time he saw a shirtless Yahaba, Oikawa’s phone short circuited. Either way he blows passed Iwaizumi on his way out of the club room, successfully avoiding unnecessary contact with Yahaba. He’s spiking to himself by the time the rest of the team filters in for practice.

When Oikawa sets to him, his magic is under control, docile and behaving, but the moment he catches sight of Yahaba in his peripheral, his spike nearly rips off the arms of the blockers. He blames the brunette entirely for the fearful looks he receives from the practice team. He ignores whatever Oikawa says to him and curls his fist, urging his pulsing magic to calm the fuck down.

“Mad Dog-chan,” Oikawa snaps, “would you stop stealing other people’s balls?”

For once, Kyoutani looks at him, because if he’s looking at Oikawa, he’s not looking at Yahaba and if he’s not looking at Yahaba, he’s in control. Not that he actually dignifies Oikawa with a response, but the tingling pools in his fingers and is completely manageable. Yeah, he can do this. Just don’t look at Yahaba. Don’t think about his sexy –

“Oi,” Iwaizumi interjects, as if to intensify Oikawa’s statement, “get it together.” Kyoutani nods, but he suddenly feels exhausted.

He quells his magic as the match progresses, although that isn’t to say his spikes aren’t just as hard as what his team is used too. For once, Yahaba is mercifully silent.

There’s a look on Oikawa’s face that, quite frankly makes Kyoutani uncomfortable and the next thing Kyoutani knows, Oikawa’s being switched for Yahaba. _No._

The moment Yahaba steps onto the court, Kyoutani feels the shift in his magic. He was able to contain it within his fingertips but with Yahaba here now more than ever, he’s on the edge of everything exploding.

“Ken!” Yahaba exclaims as he sets to him. Kyoutani’s magic swallows him. When Kyoutani spikes the ball, the result is a volleyball sized hole in the gym floor, a player whose life just flashed before their eyes and a very surprised team. In the span of about two seconds, a couple of thoughts flashed through his mind but _I’m fucked_ was the loudest, resounding thought. He takes one look at Yahaba’s face and his feet did the talking.

He doesn’t quite remember how he ended up behind the school under a tree, but he falls to his knees there anyways and feels like vomiting. He’s not supposed to let anyone know, ever – but that’s not what hurts the most. Kyoutani’s never seen an expression like that on Yahaba’s face. He’s afraid of him.

Kyoutani punches the ground so hard his knuckles bleed and the petals of a marigold peek through his skin. If he wasn’t so upset, he would almost be fascinated by the flower growing under his skin.

“Kentarou are you okay? What happened back there?”

 _What the fuck kind of shitty luck did he have_?

Kyoutani didn’t move. “Nothing.”

He almost doesn’t catch Yahaba’s soft “bullshit” before he circles him and crouches. Kyoutani’s mind tears, does he push him away or kiss him?

“Fuck off,” Kyoutani snaps. He can’t deal with Yahaba right now. He’s not even looking at him and his pulse is soaring, magic sparking. He’s… afraid.

Yahaba’s calloused hands gently cup Kyoutani’s face, forcing the angry boy to look at him. Yahaba’s eyes are clear, open and receptive, any of those ugly emotions he had earlier were erased from his expression. He did look a little annoyed, though Kyoutani’s not sure what from.

“Talk to me, idiot,” he says. He says that, probably means it (jerk) and waits. He’s silent again, waiting, on the verge of shaking an answer from him.

Kyoutani’s not much for talking, he figures people should just know when someone doesn’t want to fucking talk to you and Kyoutani doesn’t really want to talk, ever. “I… am magic.”

Yahaba stares at him for a long time, making Kyoutani squirm under his scrutiny. “Huuuh?”

Fuck. Deciding this torture would be over a lot quicker if he just fucking showed him, Kyoutani lifts his hand. Yahaba glances down and balks. A fully blossomed marigold had burst from his torn knuckles. He rips it from his skin, wincing slightly when the stem peels off more of his skin.

“What.”

A frustrated laugh bubbles out of Kyoutani’s throat and tiny fireworks explode centimeters from his fingertips. _Oh_ , that’s new. Yahaba watches the display of colours, possibly fascinated though Kyoutani’s never been great at reading facial expressions.

“Oh.” He moves his fingers just over Kyoutani’s and the latter sucks in a breath through his teeth. The fireworks curl around Yahaba’s fingers, like Kyoutani’s magic is subconsciously protecting him. When Yahaba slides his hand into Kyoutani’s, lacing their fingers, Kyoutani must be dreaming or dead.

“You’re not… scared?”

Yahaba smirks at him, squeezing his hand. “I’ve never been scared of you.” He says it in such a cocky way that Kyoutani wants to punch him.

He does the next best thing and kisses him. It’s never occurred to Kyoutani that a wide-eyed, speechless Yahaba could be better than an arrogant one. His grin returns a moment later and Kyoutani’s mouth dries.

“How are you going to explain the hole?”

“Loose floorboard,” Kyoutani decides, intentionally crushing the lilacs that bloom by his knees. If Yahaba notices, he doesn’t comment.

“You’re an idiot,” he says, wiping the glare off Kyoutani’s face with a soft kiss. Kyoutani tries to go for more and their teeth clack. “I’ll come up with an excuse if you buy me hamima chicken.”

“You’re… okay with this?” Kyoutani asks, suddenly unsure of himself.

Yahaba stares at him. “It’s a lot to take in but I mean, it sure explains a lot. I’ll adjust.”

A smile tugs at his lips. “Good.”

After coming up with a shoddy excuse about the damaged floor and the ridiculous hamima chicken date, Kyoutani’s magic is sated. It no longer flares up uncontrollably when Yahaba smiles at him or even more pathetically when he’s merely in proximity to him.

…Although, when a thousand roses rained down from his ceiling and fireworks singed Yahaba’s arm the first time they made out, Kyoutani is adamant in that those two incidents were nothing but a coincidence. Yahaba disagrees.

**Author's Note:**

> beautiful lol should have focused more on the world building to emphasize the magical realism but   
> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ oh and that beautiful kinda fast ending lolol anyways i hope you enjoyed ♥


End file.
